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The Future 


of 

Beauty 



(c) 2020 by James Banks, licensed nnder a Creative 
Commons license: Attribntion-NonCommercial- 
NoDerivatives 4.0 International. Yon may make 
and distribnte copies of this work, withont 
modification, for non-commercial pnrposes. For fnll 
terms of license, see 

creativecommons. org / licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 

V. 0.2, 2 November 2020 
My website is 10v24.net 

The type nsed is Donald Knnth’s Compnter 
Modern Serif. 


I remember in high school we were giving reports 
on onr personal heritages. I remember that Qasim 
got np right before I did. He talked abont how his 
family came fleeing the violence in Somalia, and 
abont their past in the generations before that. I 
got np and gave my report. In my research, I had 
discovered many different threads to follow, whether 
my Irish ancestors or my wealthy English ancestors, 
bnt I chose to talk abont one family name that 
came down my mom’s side of the family. It was a 
Hngnenot name, Protestants who lived in France 
and fled to other lands. This was back in the days 
when people killed each other over religion. The 
Hngnenots in my family moved hrst to the 
Netherlands, then to England, then to America, 
which is where onr family came from to come to 
here. 


2 


31 



remembered, from when I was in kindergarten. 
Finally, we were more settled in onr sadness. And 
Bopha’s mom said, “Okay. Yon have snffered 
enongh. Fm going to make yon some snacks and 
bring something to show yon.” We sat in her living 
room, Kamaria on the carpet and me on the couch 
where Bopha’s mom had sat. And we waited 
quietly, with nothing to say. 

Bopha’s mom came back with some little snacks, 
and then said, “Fll be back soon.” She went off 
down the hallway that led to all the bedrooms, 
opened a door we could not see, and then soon 
enough returned... with Bopha. We could not 
believe what we were seeing, but since we were 
unacquainted with death, we were ready to believe 
anything. “Hello.” she said quietly. “You thought I 
died, didn’t you?” 

We looked at her quietly and felt something we had 
never felt before, a sadness at joy. We were going 
to get excited that she was back, but instead we felt 
a quiet feeling like mourning. The value that we 
felt for her was more important than our 
excitement. And she knew her value to us from 
that, even supposing she hadn’t heard our words 
about her, through the thin walls of the house. 


30 


THE FUTURE OF BEAUTY 


These are sketches of the way the future might be, 
or will be. 

The character Bopha’s name is pronounced “boh 
pah”. Chanthavy’s name is pronounced “chan ta 
vy”. Ngoc’s name is pronounced “nowp”, but you 
close down on the “p” instead of expelling air 
afterward as you usually do after a “p” in English. 
If curious, you might look up the pronunciations of 
other names in these short stories. 


3 



PART 1 


4 


laughing so hard. And then Bopha took her hand 
from mine (only our hngers had been touching) and 
did her own twirl, and lost balance, and fell off the 
ledge, screaming. We could see her fall and then 
saw her body break far below us, her voice cut 
short. 

We had no idea what to do. What would we do? 

We had read about death in books, but we forgot 
everything we had read. Would we be in trouble? 
We thought of how we had participated in what 
had happened. But we thought that we should tell 
her parents. So we ran back up the path to the 
edge of the wilderness and untied our horses where 
we’d left them, and rode back to our neighborhood, 
Bopha’s horse following its friends, and tied up the 
horses outside Bopha’s house. We rang the doorbell 
and Bopha’s mom opened the door. “Children, has 
something bad happened?” “We were out at the 
precipice, and Bopha fell off and I think she died,” 
Kamaria said. We were scared and upset. “Oh 
children,” said Bopha’s mom, “I’m so sorry.” And 
she comforted us as we grieved. 

We talked about what Bopha had meant to us, for 
a while, and Bopha’s mom shared some stories of 
how she was as a little girl. Some of them I 


29 



was like him. We had a conversation, and at the 
end of it, my parents said, “Maybe that’s jnst the 
way he is.” 


I remember one time in middle school, Bopha fell 
from a precipice. Bopha and Kamaria and I were 
walking home from school when Kamaria said, 

“Hey, let’s go look at the precipice.” We were all 
excited, having read the word “precipice” on the 
sign to the path, never having had mnch interest 
before, bnt that day we had read in onr langnage 
arts class abont a noble poet who stood proudly 
above the precipice. We thought there would be a 
beautiful view down into the gorge or valley below. 

We walked and even ran a little down the path to 
the precipice, and then we came to it. We loved the 
sight. We saw cattle grazing far below us, and the 
shelf-like edges of the precipice asserted themselves. 
We all got very close to the edge, ignoring any fear, 
and Bopha, egged on by Kamaria and me, started 
to walk on a narrow shelf, beaming and smiling. I 
reached down and took her hand and suggested 
imperatively that she dance. We were having a 
good time, my hand in hers and Kamaria was 


“What a truly consensual day,” said Vinay to Hazel 
and Midori. They agreed. The wind was blowing, 
in a way that fully respected each of the people it 
blew on. The sky had little clouds that were 
moving in a way which reassured each of the three 
young people, clouds that knew where they were 
headed to. The young people walked along a street 
with beautiful sighing trees; these trees were tall, 
maybe 60 feet tall, conifers. They kicked the cones 
at their feet and spoke of what they were going to 
do next. They walked by the shadow of a giant 
windmill of glory, they looked up at the arms of it, 
seeing the sun shine through. They each stood still 
to absorb the moment. They would remember that 
moment, even the angle of the arms, for the rest of 
their lives. 


Lech, Aster, Tamar, and Fabrizio sat at the bar, 
with its classily-wiped shiny bartop, its gorgeous 
low key saxophone and piano and hushing drumkit 
trio in one corner, three musicians who were 
thoroughly absorbed in music and in chilling out. 
“The vibe in here is amazing,” said Fabrizio. “I 
know!” rejoined Aster. “The only thing that could 
make it better would be if...” 


28 


5 



Everyone knew what she was abont to say, and the 
AI made it manifest. The bartender, a beantifnl 
man, made a signal, and a stately woman in a linen 
robe came in, taking her time, not saying a word. 
She made gestnres of invitation and initiation, not 
saying a word, and the adventnrers looked at her, 
their hearts waiting. She took ont a wooden box, 
and opened it np, and removed an ornate atomizer, 
rich with tastefnl decorations, with a bnlb wrapped 
in cloth woven two-colors-against-each-other. Then 
she took ont of the box two small phials of colored 
liqnid and a larger bottle of a clear liqnid. She 
opened the atomizer and pnt a few drops from the 
small phials in the atomizer, then hlled it np with 
liqnid from the bottle. She shook the atomizer. 
Then she pointed it toward the ceiling and sprayed 
a fragrant clond. 

“Wow.” said Lech. He didn’t have mnch else to say 
in the moment, and neither did anyone else. 

They came back to being able to speak. 

“It reminded me of the beach,” said Tamar. “An 
afternoon at the beach, with an onshore breeze. 
Being 8 years old.” 


When we got older, we moved on to the middle 
school, and we rode onr horses in to the city. We 
rode past the great big windmill which reached ont 
to the sky, and in the mornings it was cold, so we 
made the horses go faster so that they wonld be 
warmer. I used to like to sit in the back of class 
near the heater in the morning. My mind was so 
fresh. 

Bopha and Kamaria and I used to eat lunch 
together, but we were the only ones we knew from 
our elementary school to end up at the same middle 
school. But we were pretty sure that everyone we 
knew would go to the same high school. And on 
the weekends, when our homework was done, we 
would go looking around for Amraz, who wasn’t in 
school, but who wandered around looking for stray 
animals to take back to his uncle, who paid him two 
dollars for each stray animal. His uncle had 
animals grazing out in the wilderness, and some of 
them wandered into town. After he was done 
Ending animals, Amraz would go to the arcade and 
play video games for a few hours and then go out 
again and do nothing at all. 

I asked my parents one time about Amraz. Why 
was he the way he was? It seemed like no one else 


6 


27 



“People used to want to feel different, so they would 
put different things in their bodies.” 

“Like food?” 

“Kind of like food. These things they put in 
themselves made them feel good and they relied on 
them a lot. I think in the story he takes it so he 
can think better.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Why does Sherlock Holmes 
use cocaine? Isn’t he really smart without it?” 

“It’s hard to be smart. Maybe he was under a lot of 
pressure to be the kind of person he thought he was 
supposed to be. Sometimes people would have high 
expectations for other people, which made the other 
people push themselves. Other times, people would 
have high expectations for reality. They wanted 
something deep and true in the very moments they 
lived. So they would chase the intensity. 

Sometimes I feel like that’s what Sherlock Holmes 
was going for.” And again, he was sadder when 
saying this than I felt in hrst hearing it. 


“I second that,” said Aster, “But I would also add 
that it’s the day after my birthday and I’m 
remembering how much fun I had.” 

Lech didn’t have anything to say. “I don’t know 
what this brings up for me, but I feel it.” 

Fabrizio said “I’m thinking of a friend of mine, the 
way he smiles.” 

The adventurers talked about past adventures, of 
delicious food they had eaten, food that tasted like 
the color of mahogany wood and the warmth of a 
camphre. They talked about crossing the grand 
canal in order to get to the cotton helds, where they 
had picked cotton (the easiest thing in the world, 
like cutting butter with a knife) and wove clothes 
for themselves on looms they found in cool halls, in 
buildings which were set aside for the purpose. 

And then their perfumer prepared another scent, 
and they were taken to a garden in which there 
were cool walkways and roses out in the sun, and 
the day was hot but the adventurers were glad to 
be in the heat, after having been not too long but 
just long enough in a cool-morninged house. And 


26 


7 



they were going to experience a third scent-clond, 
bnt Tamar said that she had to step ontside while 
they did that. “Is there something wrong?” they 
asked. 

“Oh no, it’s jnst that all this perfnme can make it 
difficult for me to form sentences. It’s too beautiful 
for me.” 

The others understood. “Okay, maybe another 
time!” and they continued to savor the perfection 
which the perfumer offered without stint. 

Tamar stood outside, meanwhile, until Ngoc and 
Juan Carlos approached. She waved at her friends 
in the bar and they waved back, and she went off 
with Ngoc and Juan Carlos. 

They found three horses tied up by a fountain. The 
horses were proud and noble, and the three used 
what they knew about horsemanship (learned from 
an afternoon of the closest attention) and mounted 
the steeds. 

They rode through the city, through the wide 
boulevards, the main part of the streets empty, but 
the sidewalks well-populated, and people were 

8 


rope.” So Bopha and I moved the rope, and Lauren 
and Kamaria jumped. 


I used to like to read when I was your age. My 
parents had a bunch of books and I would ask them 
what they were about. “What is Madame Bovary 
about?” 

“It’s about a woman who has nothing to do, and 
then she goes off to have a relationship with some 
men who are not her husband. In the end, she kills 
herself.” 

I felt sad and confused when I heard that. “Did 
that really happen?” 

“The story is a novel, but that was the kind of life 
people used to lead.” I felt a little bit sad when I 
heard that, but my parents looked like they were 
even sadder. 

One time I was reading a Sherlock Holmes book 
and I asked my dad about it. “What’s cocaine?” 


25 



walking in the rain. Bnt first I have to ask my 
parents.” And they said that we conld, bnt we 
wonld have to leave onr shoes on the porch instead 
of pntting them on the tile in the entryway. (They 
said this thinking we wonld bring in mnd, which 
was a wise prediction.) So we went ont on the 
sidewalk ont to the end of the neighborhood where 
there was some nndeveloped land. And as we set 
out, she said “We have to be careful not to step on 
the snails. When we get out to the forest” (the 
undeveloped land, with towering 12-foot-high 
bushes) “we can’t lose each other, we always have to 
be in sight of each other.” 


One time Kamaria and Bopha were playing jump 
rope and wanted me to play with them. I was not 
feeling like playing jump rope, but I wasn’t feeling 
like not playing jump rope either, and they were 
feeling like playing jump rope, so I played jump 
rope. They gave me a doll to hold. “Lauren needs 
to exercise, so you have to hold her and do the 
jump rope.” I got really tired doing this and I said, 
“I can’t do it anymore. I’m getting tired.” and they 
said, “OK, you can take a rest.” And Kamaria said 
“I can hold Lauren now, and you can hold the jump 


looking at them go by. Tamar knew that she was 
queen, and that Ngoc and Juan Carlos were her 
inner advisers, and they knew that as well and were 
fully in accord with her. They galloped to the 
center of the city, to the great square, where there 
were other horses and riders, and they all trotted 
around each other, partnering up for equestrian 
dancing. The AI caused trees to grow up over the 
horses and riders when they tired, and the riders 
dismounted, and the horses walked away, and the 
riders introduced each other to each other, 
something which was impossible during the 
equestrian dances. Ngoc, Juan Carlos, and Tamar 
found themselves introducing themselves to 
Katrine, Nigel, and someone named 16. “It’s 
spelled one six, sixteen.” They decided to go over 
to a restaurant and have dinner, an early dinner on 
a clear summer’s day, after all their bracing 
horseback riding. 


Ngoc, Billingara, and Tamar found each other 
outside the Grand Library. They walked around 
the colonnades, looking at the bas reliefs of 
legendary writers, like Sir Ronald Moore and 
Wisteria van Helft. They wondered what to do. 


24 


9 



Ngoc suggested that they go down to Smuggler’s 
Pond. The others agreed. They set out from the 
Grand Library and went walking for many hours 
out into the hills around the city. 

Finally, they came to a stream running down into a 
hole in the ground. The hole was signihcantly 
larger than the stream. There was a rope leading 
down into the hole, and our three adventurers let 
themselves down into the darkness of a karst cave 
system. 

Their feet were sure on the yet damp limestone, and 
they had with them flashlights by which they 
illuminated their surroundings. They found 
themselves in a boxy room, where lying on the 
ground was a pile of treasure! They looked through 
the treasure, looked at the inscriptions on beautiful 
coins, and then put everything back. 

Then they continued on and found a tight 
passageway which they got through, with both a 
sense of adventure and the certainty that they 
would get through it, and they arrived in a 
catacomb, complete with human bones. 


I remember one time it was raining and I was over 
at Bopha’s house. Her parents were in the other 
room talking and, later on, making dinner. So we 
had the whole afternoon just to sit in the living 
room playing with toys. It was going okay for a 
while, but then we started to get irritated at each 
other, and she started to get mad at me, and she 
yelled at me to give her back her toys and go home. 
And I didn’t want to go out in the rain and get wet 
on the way back home and she started yelling some 
more. And her parents came in, and she looked at 
her parents and yelled at them too. And they came 
up to her and sadly said, “Bopha, dear lass, come 
sit with us on the couch.” And she stopped yelling 
and sat with them on their couch. “Bopha, you 
have played very much this afternoon.” “Yes, 
Bopha,” said her mom, “You have played a lot with 
your friend.” Bopha was quieter. “Bopha, your 
friend is very hurt. Do you see how he cries?” And 
I was crying, and she looked up at me and said that 
I was crying. “OK, Bopha, now you see him,” her 
mom said, and they got up and went back to 
making dinner in the kitchen. And Bopha sat on 
the couch for a little bit composing herself, and I 
sat on the carpet composing myself. And then she 
got up and put the toys away and said, “I have an 
umbrella and you can have one, too. We can go 


10 


23 



surveyed what was there. Amraz looked at the 
corpses of the enemy pilots and decided that we 
should have a funeral for them. So we got our guns 
out again and hred them off into the air above the 
playground, to honor each of the pilots we had 
killed. Then we gathered stones for them and built 
cairns over their graves. Wouldn’t the playground 
attendants move the cairns? We tried to tell them 
not to move them, but they said to us, “We honor 
the dead as much as you do, but we don’t want 
anyone to trip on them. We have to care about the 
living, too.” 


When I was younger, some of the kids I played with 
were named Amraz, Bopha, and Qasim. Amraz 
had red hair and blue eyes. Bopha had different 
eyes, kind of slanted, and she had black hair. 

Qasim had a round face and dark brown skin and 
hair. Sometimes I played with Bopha’s friends, too, 
like Kamaria and Chanthavy. Amraz would come 
and play with them when I was playing with them, 
but he did his own thing sometimes, too. 


They saw ancient inscriptions, which they were able 
to interpret after just the right amount of effort. 
They thought about the past, about all the 
dynasties which must have existed to produce the 
things that they saw. 

Then they moved on. “Where’s Smuggler’s Pond?” 
asked Billingara. “I don’t know,” replied Ngoc. 
“Okay, we’ll hnd it sometime or other.” 

They kept looking through the cave system. They 
found a room with amazing stalagmites and 
stalactites. The room had a light pink look to it, 
from its minerals. They found an underground 
waterfall, which roared from far away. They sat in 
the dark, and inhabited a moment of simply 
hearing. 

They didn’t feel like going any further down the 
waterfall, so they turned back and took a different 
branch. They could hear the sound of a guitar 
playing. “I bet that’s it,” said Tamar. They came 
out of the passage onto the shore of an underground 
pond. There were young people playing guitar and 
sitting around. Some of them were playing with the 
water, splashing and idly leaving their hands in. 


22 


11 



Little cave creatures climbed up out of the pond 
and then ran away from the light, except for the 
blind cave creatures, which came to sit next to the 
guitar player. The guitar player was singing a 
beautiful song. Everything else, except for the 
splashing of hands in water and the skittering of the 
cave creatures, was silent, everyone was quiet. 

Ngoc, Tamar, and Billingara silently got out the 
sandwiches they had brought with them, and tasted 
their watercress and provolone cheese, which was 
simple food, but especially welcome after their 
exertions in the dark. 


Ngoc, Billingara and Juan Carlos could smell 
something they couldn’t put their minds to 
understand, something spicy and strong, and they 
followed their noses outside to see a whole festival 
of flower-sellers, marching through the streets and 
setting up their stalls. The flower-sellers were 
singing in their sopranos and altos, songs that 
skipped and echoed, interlocking parts that were 
improvised according to an old tradition. The 
flowers were not the source of the smell, though, 
and the three adventurers walked on through. 


These are some things that I remember. I have 
written them down so that you can see what my life 
was like for me when I was your age. 

“Why do children laugh but adults never laugh?” 

“Laughing is good for you when you’re young but it 
is better for adults not to laugh. We need to watch 
our hearts, because adults are capable of great evil.” 


I remember back when I was younger, younger than 
you are, flying high above the playground with my 
arms out as wings, running around on the 
decomposed granite of the playground, hring my 
machine guns at Amraz, until he joined my 
squadron and we fought the enemy that was always 
available to us as soon as it was time for us to hght. 
Several of the other boys were attracted to the 
action, including Qasim and August. We swooped 
past the enemy and scored several casualties. Then 
some of the girls entered the fray. We thought they 
were our enemies at hrst until we realized they were 
on our side. We flew around for a while, but then 
time and life told us that this pursuit needed to be 
laid aside, and we landed on the ground and 


12 


21 



PART 2 


several streets down, never losing the trace of the 

smell. 


Eventnally they came ont into a plaza where there 
was a herd of nnicorns. The nnicorns had a sweet 
smell, the smell of blessed pastnres, bnt this was 
not the smell that had spoken so persnasively to 
onr adventnrers back inside. 

They continned several streets farther and at last 
came to a table where was laid cheese and bread 
and wine and olives and pineapples and lotns 
blossoms and artichoke hearts. They began to eat 
the food, bnt as they ate realized that they conld 
no longer smell the fragrance that had called them, 
bnt conld only smell the foods in their months as 
they ate them. 

They talked abont adventnres they had had. 

“Do yon remember the time we went down to visit 
Smnggler’s Pond, and the cave hsh were sparkling 
with biolnminescence?” 

“Yes, I do. It is said that that only happens once in 
a long while. We were very fortnnate to have seen 
it.” 


20 


13 



“What about the time we were climbing the sheer 
rock walls of Mount Eyal, and the rope broke, and I 
think it was Chifung who fell, and he fell right off 
the rock face, and his ropes disappeared and he 
grew wings. And he started to fly, so much to his 
surprise. Do you remember that time?” 

“How could I forget? We were all moved to tears at 
the beauty of it.” As they ate and talked, Midori 
joined their company. 

“Midori, did you come out here to smell the smell?” 
“What smell?” 

“We smelled something we couldn’t put into words, 
so we went out to hnd the thing that made the 
smell, and it led us here. But now the smell is 
gone.” 

“Oh no, I didn’t come out to smell any smell. I was 
just walking in the streets. How fortunate to have 
run into you all.” 

They hnished up the spread of food, exactly as full 
as they needed to be, and then continued to walk. 


muted calmness. “All of this,” they said, “exists, as 
far as the eye can see.” 

They found themselves hnally walking out toward a 
desert village, as night fell. They checked into a 
desert resort hotel, and lounged around and looked 
at all of the desert objects which had been brought 
in and mounted on the walls. The carpets in this 
hotel were of the hnest quality, and all of our 
adventurers greatly enjoyed the feeling of their bare 
feet on the floor. The evening meal was of roast 
meat and desert vegetables, sage and cactus leaves 
among them. Then everyone sat around a hre and 
told stories, until dawn came. At this time, the 
adventurers decided to part ways. Ngoc, Billingara, 
Midori, and the rest from the city decided to 
retrace their steps back to where they were from, 
and our adventurers from the desert decided to keep 
going into the desert world. 


14 


19 



of their pants dried out. They walked among the 
washes of the desert, and followed one down into a 
great alluvial fan. Then they saw in the distance a 
hre burning in a steel barrel, and a few people 
gathered around it. So they walked toward them, 
with the landscape not presenting any sort of 
resistance to that particular path. 

When they arrived at the hre in the barrel, they 
met a group of adventurers who were cooking some 
food. They shared a meal and talked about the 
weather. All the adventurers soon found themselves 
mingled together, telling stories to each other. 

Then, after having had their hll of words and food, 
they gathered up their backpacks and set off toward 
the badlands. 

They walked along the beautifully, daringly, eroded 
landforms and saw desert sheep leaping across their 
path. A rattlesnake rattled at them, and they 
looked at it with the utmost respect but without 
any fear. They climbed up to the top of one of the 
landforms and looked out at the whole picture. 

The clouds which brought snow were now only 
shading the sun, so their eyes were not as dazzled 
by the glare, and instead they saw everything in a 


“I’m not tired,” said Juan Carlos, “But I think it 
would be good to rest inside this museum.” 

The admission to the museum was free, and there 
were people who had set up places to rest inside it, 
canopies and beds. The museum was dim and cool, 
with a high ceiling and a stone floor. There were 
exhibits everywhere. Our adventurers looked 
around at the artifacts, for hours on end. Finally 
they realized that it was becoming dark outside, 
but they were so engrossed in the exhibits that they 
decided to keep looking. The lights of the museum 
were coming on and it was certainly possible to 
keep looking. Finally they thought to go outside, to 
go back to where they usually stayed, each to their 
own home, but as they approached the entrance of 
the museum, got out into the atrium that was 
ordinarily so full of sunlight, they could see through 
its great glass windows a wonderful and awful 
scene. The wolves were in the streets! They 
padded through with lethal purpose, only stopping 
to howl at the moon. The wolves had somewhere 
they had come from, and there was somewhere they 
were going. Someone was out among them, was 
surprised, and turned into a bat and flew away. 

The wolves kept coming, their silvery river rapids 
flowing, and then they were gone. But as they ran. 


18 


15 



there began the falling of snow, and by the time 
they were gone, the snow was falling far too thickly 
for anyone to dare leave the mnsenm. So everyone 
gathered in the main room, and the docents cleared 
away the central exhibit, and set np stones to make 
a hre pit, and high above, in the dome of the 
ceiling, the skylight was lifted, and the docents 
bronght in the wood from old benches replaced by 
new, and piles and piles of old papers - not 
priceless mannscripts, bnt obsolete docnmentation 
from the beantifnlly ever-changing Regnlations of 
Mnsenms - and in the old stone bnilding which was 
sinking into coldness, they started a great hre to 
warm the people who were going to wait ont the 
blizzard in the great mnsenm. 

The people there told stories and played card games 
with decks of cards, which the docents had taken off 
the racks of their own gift shop and had made a gift 
to everyone. Onr adventnrers became acqnainted 
with two others, Eamon and Nigel, and they made 
a merry and gratefnl party. They spoke of the 
depths of history, as revealed by the exhibits in the 
mnsenm. And they spoke abont what they wonld 
do when the blizzard was lifted. It was said that 
there was a river that froze when it was cold. 
Perhaps they conld go ont on that river and go 


across it to the other side, which was ordinarily not 
easy to get to. What wonld be in that land? They 
wondered. 

As night progressed, the snow stopped falling, and 
eventnally light retnrned to the sky. Onr 
adventnrers: Billingara, Jnan Carlos, Ngoc, Midori, 
Nigel, and Eamon; walked ont into the invigorating 
cold, and walked throngh the powdery snow, in the 
direction of the edge of the city, and from thence 
ont into the conntryside. Everything looked as it 
shonld, covered in a foot of snow. Their feet 
became cold and they loved it. They made it ont 
to the edge of the river, and overnight, it had frozen 
over. They walked across and fonnd themselves in 
conntryside that looked mnch like what they had 
known. Bnt after walking a few miles, they fonnd 
themselves in hills with tall pine trees and broad 
oak trees, and then increasingly pine and cedar 
trees, all of them covered in snow. They continned 
to climb the hills, nntil they fonnd themselves in 
foothills. Then they crossed a saddle and fonnd 
themselves descending into a warmer, drier place, 
and then into a desert. 

In the desert, the air was a little warm, and 
noticeably dry. Their feet warmed np and the legs 


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